


Closer

by clare009



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:45:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2555072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clare009/pseuds/clare009
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she sees a private moment between Rick and Michonne, Carol realizes she wants more from Daryl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer

They were out on the road again, this time camping in a clearing amongst the trees. In the haze of early morning light, Carol rolled away from where Daryl had curled up to her sometime during the night, and began to collect the implements she'd need to get the fire going once more while figuring out what to heat up for breakfast. She padded through the camp and knelt down next to the firepit, careful not to wake those asleep. Most were still lying together in huddled mounds for warmth in the crisp morning air. Fall was on them full blown; the leaves on the trees had turned red and gold, and the forest floor was blanketed with them. 

Carol looked across to where Rick was standing watch on the perimeter. There were no bad feelings between them, now, and for that she was grateful. After everything they'd been through in the weeks since the fallout at Terminus, it was all so much water under the bridge. That, and Rick had finally figured out what being alive at the end of the world meant. She knew she could trust him to do anything to keep them alive. Just like he could trust her. 

There was a soft rustle behind her and Carol turned to see Michonne stepping towards Rick. She watched as Michonne nudged Rick's shoulder and handed him a canteen of water. Rick smiled, then leaned in and pressed a kiss against Michonne's cheek. Michonne, in turn, cupped his face and gave him a soft look that Carol knew was only meant for the two of them. She flushed and turned away, back to stoking the fire to life, with a sense that she'd witnessed something private. 

A moment later, Michonne was crouching down next to her.

"Need a hand?" she said.

Carol looked up. "I'm gonna need some water for the large pot when this gets going."

"I'll kick Carl out of bed for that."

Carol smiled. She gave Michonne another glance, and then her curiosity got the best of her. "So, you and Rick?"

Michonne chuckled. "Saw that, did you?"

"Sorry."

"Don't be. We're not exactly hiding anything. We're just not as flashy about it as Maggie and Glenn are."

Carol grinned. "They can be over the top."

"What's worse is they think they're being sneaky, running off behind trees and shit, but damn, they don't even know how to keep quiet. I've never seen poor Carl blush so hard as when he figured out what they were up to."

She laughed. Poor Carl indeed. And Daryl. The way he'd cussed them out under his breath had made her snort. "I don't think they care, really." She shrugged. "It's none of my business, of course, but have you and Rick…?"

"I don't kiss and tell." Michonne's smile turned to a smirk, which told Carol all she needed to know, anyway. 

"I see.".

"Life's too short. That's more true now than it ever was. And, damn, but a woman has needs. Well, I'm sure you know. That redneck lover of yours must take good care of you." When Carol flushed brightly, Michonne raised an eyebrow. "He is taking care of you, right?"

Turning her face away, Carol tossed a few more sticks and twigs onto the now burning embers in front of her. "Daryl and I… It's not really like that. We don't… I mean… it's just different."

"Sure. I can respect that. Nothing wrong with different." 

"Yeah, it's fine." Carol looked to see the other woman giving her with a bemused expression. "What?"

"You know that you two are practically married, right?" Carol snorted. "I'm serious. Ever since he saved your ass from that creepy hospital, redneck boy has not left your side. He fetches and carries for you, he brings you his kills, he shares your blankets--he's like an overgrown puppy, and when you're not looking, the way he watches you… like now, for instance."

Carol jerked around to see Daryl sitting up in their pile of blankets several feet away, quickly turning his head as she caught him staring at her. She felt a warm smile spread across her face. "He doesn't do that all the time, does he?"

"All the time, girlfriend. Like an overgrown, lovesick puppy." Michonne chuckled. "None of my business, either, I suppose, but are you okay with things how they are?"

She bit her lip as she considered Michonne's question. It's not like it wasn't okay. It was comfortable and safe. But she'd been going through a metamorphosis since the day she'd became a widow, a whole lifetime ago, and certain things she'd thought had been suppressed inside her for good had been roused. She was still not sure how she felt about herself in the context of that. Or how Daryl would feel about it. "I don't know," she told Michonne simply. 

"Maybe you just need to find time to figure it out. Together." 

Carol watched as Daryl grabbed his bow, his shoulders flexing as he slung the weapon across his back, and without saying a word to anyone, he loped off into the forest beyond the camp.

He'd be back with something to throw on the fire before too long. Carol gave a little smirk. "Life's too short, right?"

***

A week later, they'd salvaged some vehicles for the journey and, for good or for ill, were on route to DC. Most of the group were huddled in a black SUV, but Daryl and Carol followed behind in the Dodge Ram they'd picked up. 

They took turns in driving and sleeping, deciding it was better to keep moving, unless they needed to raid for supplies and fuel. 

Carol was in between dozing off and watching the overgrown fields roll by when they came to a sudden stop.

"What's going on?" She said, startled into full alertness. 

"Pile up ahead." Daryl said. He drove slowly up to where the SUV was stopped. Rick climbed out of the passenger side of the SUV and walked up to her window. 

Carol rolled it down. "Can we get through?"

Rick shook his head. "Too congested. But we should be able to go off road and get around. I was gonna suggest we scavenge. Doesn't look too picked over."

"Walkers?" Daryl asked.

"Just a few stragglers. Don't see any herds."

Daryl nodded and reached behind for his crossbow. They hopped out the truck and began to make a methodical search through the stranded vehicles, taking out the odd walker as they went. 

They found warmer clothes, bottles of water, snack food, medicines--all things they could use--and were able to siphon gas from the stranded vehicles. 

Carol was riffling through a suitcase out of a sedan while Daryl emptied the tank into a fuel can when she found the box of prophylactics. Her chuckle at the discovery made Daryl look at her with a raised eyebrow. 

She brandished the box and grinned. "Do you think these would come in handy?" 

He snorted and shook his head, and Caryl laughed. She started to toss the box aside, but Daryl stood and reached out his hand. "Give 'em here."

Carol froze. She looked at the hand that was waiting and then back up at Daryl. All her bravado fled. She was so used to making less than innocent jabs at him without any return, that to suddenly see his mouth curl up in what could only be described as amusement, left her genuinely flabberghasted. 

He beckoned her to give him the box, and so she did, and then he went back to siphoning the gas from the car like it was nothing, and she was left to try and process what had just happened. 

As they piled all the found supplies into the back of the truck, Carol threw a sideways glance in Daryl's direction, but he seemed like it was all just business as usual. 

"Wanna drive?" he asked as the group prepared to climb back into the vehicles. 

"You need a nap?"

He shrugged. "Could use one."

"Sure. I'm good." She reached out, and as he deposited the keys into her hands, his fingers brushed against her palm. She tensed to keep from jumping at the spark he generated under her skin. 

That night they cleared out a farmhouse in the middle of an overgrown orchard. It was mostly too late for the peaches, but they did find enough that weren't rotten or ridden with worms to supplement their meal. 

It was the first time since the hospital that they'd had an actual roof over their heads, and there were beds to sleep in, and chairs, and a fireplace, even though they couldn't use it. 

Carol was a jangle of nerves. She'd thrown her gear into one of the smaller bedrooms, and watched with trepidation as Daryl had thrown his in with hers. She still had no clue what his intentions were, or if he had any beyond the need to make sure they weren't separated again. She continued to sneak looks at him while they ate, but he wore his typical closed off expression and she could infer nothing from it. 

It didn't help that she had become acutely aware of his presence next her her, that even though there was a good foot of space between them where they sat, she still felt the warmth that his body seemed to generate. At one point, she found herself openly staring at his mouth as he bit in to a very ripe peach and the juices dribbled down the hair on his chin. He finished off the peach, and sucked at the pit until it was dry, then licked and sucked each one of his fingers. 

He caught her staring. "What?"

Carol flushed. She was sure her cheeks were scarlet with the way they were burning. "Nothing," she managed to mumble before she got up and fled to the kitchen. 

She panted as she leaned over the rusted sink, trying to get her hammering heart under control. One thing was certain, she was starting to reach breaking point. Squeezing her eyes shut, she imagined Daryl's fingers, the ones he'd licked, ghosting over her naked skin. Just the thought ignited a burn in the pit of her stomach. 

She had to do something before she went up in flames. 

If she'd been thinking clearly, she may have realized that her next action was incredibly risky. The group dynamic was stable right now, but there was always the chance that sometime like this could upset the entire balance, throw things out of whack and create a potentially dangerous situation. But Carol wasn't close to thinking clearly. All she knew was that things that had been forming between them since the farm so many months ago, and she was done trying to shove it into the background and pretend it didn't exist. 

After taking a few more deep breaths and steadying her resolve, Carol walked back into the great room. She walked behind Daryl and put her hand lightly on his shoulder. It was a testament to how far he'd come that he didn't flinch. She leaned close and said in a low voice, "I'm going up to the room. Can I talk to you about something?"

He gave her a nod and a grunt, and after disposing of the paper plates they'd used for dinner, he turned to follow her up the stairs. Carol looked back to find Michonne grinning at her, and she felt her cheeks grow warm. 

They reached the room, and Daryl followed her inside. 

"What is it?" His voice was laced with concern, and she felt a smattering of guilt for having caused him any. 

She bit her lip and hid her shaking hands behind her back. "Shut the door."

Daryl complied without comment. He stood and waited for her to say something, but she didn't have any words to explain how she was feeling. Instead, she stepped up to him and put her hands flat on his chest. He frowned slightly, and she could see the confusion in his eyes. She almost back peddled at that. Her heart was pounding rapidly. If she didn't do something now, she'd never have the courage to again. 

Carol bunched her hands into his shirt to pull herself up and pressed her lips to his. 

The kiss was fleeting. Daryl stumbled back and wound up against the door. He touched his fingers to his lips, his eyes wide as he stared at her. 

He was so obviously in shock at her attempt to kiss him. She should never have… what had she done? She started to shake her head and back away. Daryl's hand reached out at lightning speed and gripped her arm. 

"Wait." 

She froze. 

"Carol, I ain't… I ain't no good at this." His thumb smoothed over the skin of her arm. "I wasn't expecting…"

"I'm sorry," she blurted out. 

"For what?"

"I just… thought you might, that we… God, Daryl, tell me that I crossed the line here? I won't ever do that again, I promise."

He straightened and pulled her closer. She could feel heat radiating from him. "That what you want?"

She shook her head.

"Yeah. Me either."

Her heart was back to pounding, and a golden warmth spread across her chest. "You mean that?"

This time, he dropped his head, and as his hand came up to cradle her jaw, he kissed her back. 

It was slow and hesitant. They bumped noses and teeth until they got the angle just right, and then the kiss grew deep. Carol's reality melted away until it was just the feel of his mouth and the push of his tongue against hers. She found herself clinging to him, her body pressing flush against him, as the air around her grew hot. 

Daryl was the first to break away. He breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling, as he pressed his forehead against hers. 

"Are you okay?" Carol said. 

"Yeah… No. Fuck."

She chuckled. "That's kinda what I had in mind."

"Now? What about them downstairs?"

"No, not them, just you."

He huffed. "I didn't mean--"

"I know what you meant," she grinned as she twisted her fingers through his hair. "They're not gonna care what we do. And I don't care if they did. I want to be with you, Daryl. If you're not ready, though, I would understand."

She held her breath. 

His lips twitched into a small smile. "I been ready a long time."

Carol's heart leaped. She put her hands on either side of his face. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

""Cause. You weren't." In the half light that filtered into the room, Carol could see the truth written across his face, and it struck a chord inside her. She traced his cheekbones with her thumbs. 

"I am now."

They kissed again, the earlier awkward fumbling gone. 

He let her unbutton his shirt and pull it off so she could kiss the indentation between his neck and shoulder. She allowed him to cup her breasts beneath her top so he could feel the tightening of her nipples against his palms. 

It didn't matter that the bed was dusty, and that they both were covered in a film of dirt and sweat that was permanently etched into their skin. It didn't matter that she had to show Daryl where she needed to be touched, and how, or that it took them three tries to get get the condom out of the package without destroying it. It didn't matter that when he finally slid into her, he was so overwhelmed that he came right away, and he had to finish her off with his fingers. 

Carol loved every moment. With him, she could let go. She could breathe. 

And when all was said and done, and she pulled him into the crook of her arm and whispered to him that she loved him, he kissed her neck in return, like a promise without words.


End file.
